How Does a Moment Last Forever?
by Doppelgnger08
Summary: A collection of scenes and side stories for the 2017 movie version. Requests welcome, reviews, loved!
1. Chapter 1

**Ever wondered how the Beast didn't hear the music and dancing coming from the massive and echoey dining hall? What if he had heard it?**

" _Be our Guest, be our Guest, be our Guest…..!"_

Belle couldn't seem to keep her jaw from dropping. The dark and dank room was now flooded with lights and glittering masterpieces of food and flatware. They were stuck in a magnificent pose, as if waiting for applause. She felt frozen to her chair as the feast glistened.

To think just hours before she'd given up her freedom, to lose her chance at exploring the world.

And now she was listening to a candle sing. Wonderful, now she was going crazy too.

She closed her jaw shut with a pop and glanced down at her plate, blushing with embarrassment. Lack of food had to be the reason. There had to be a science behind all of this, oui? But her Papa had seen it too…

Her heart gave a lurch as her eyes snapped close in pain. Her Papa.

She tried hard not to think of him and their cozy home, tried not to think of her familiar bed or the worn books hiding underneath it. She tried desperately not to picture the song she'd caught her father singing, or the beautifully ornate painting of Mother.

The flatware was still paused, waiting for approval. Lumiere cleared his throat lightly.

"Eh-Mademoiselle? Are you alright?"

Belle glanced up, forcing a small smile across her features. Most of the objects seemed satisfied with this answer and began clearing themselves off the table, content to rest now that they'd "served." But the strange little teacup stayed behind, hopping towards her hesitantly.

"Miss, did we say something wrong? We jus' wanted to make you feel comfortable."

In that moment, she melted under his wobbly gaze. So maybe things weren't ideal; maybe she was without her loved ones. But her father was safe. She was in a gigantic castle, an adventure she never could have dreamed would actually happen to her. It was time to look at life in a better light.

Her smile became a little bit stronger as she met his eyes.

"And what might your name be?"

He perked up and gave a smile back. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm Chip, and the teapot's me mum."

"Chip, how many times 'ave I got to tell you? It's 'my mum,' not 'me mum.' Oh, deary, I was meaning to tell you how much of a blessing you are. Such a nice girl, and beautiful too! We all think what you did for your father was very brave of you." The teapot was hovering beside her armrest, a cup of sugar cubes resting beside her lid. "I never did catch your answer, love. Is it one lump or two?"

Belle shook her head, really grinning now. "None, thank you. But the soup is delicious."

This was a bit of a white lie; she hadn't gotten the chance to even take a sip with all the lights and music.

Her stomach growled loudly as if to prove her lie, causing her to blush scarlet again.

The teapot chortled, hopping onto the oak to pour some boiling tea into Chip's cup.

"Deary no need to lie, I know Lumiere can tend to get a bit carried away. I'll be right back with some real food, nothing fancy. Sometimes all you really need is a good loaf of bread, eh?"

And with that she rolled away, back through the swinging kitchen doors where the sounds of dishes being scrubbed clean could be heard echoing through the immense hall.

Beside her on the table, Chip was yawning wide, and she had to lift him up so the tea wouldn't spill over the edge.

"Sorry Miss...I jus'..." He paused to yawn again. "We aren't used to being happy either. It's a bit exhausting." Belle's heart hurt again, and she set Chip down after a few sips.

His eyes slipped close, and he did not make another sound.

Belle sighed and leaned back against the plush velvet, looking up towards the massive chandeliers. The flames had been reduced to bare flickers, casting shadows across the paintings lining the walls.

Slowly, so as not to wake the teacup, she stood, edging over to the wall where they hung. To the left, a portrait of a gorgeous woman with tumbling chocolate curls was framed in gold and ivory, but her eyes were sad and icy blue, as if she was in despair.

To the right, there was another portrait equal in size and elegance, but the man was cold and harsh, without a smile or warmth at all. He didn't seem human at all. He was large in stature with pale golden hair and a thick beard. Both wore ornate crowns.

In the center of the wall, a large flag with a crest emblazoned in the middle. It was about the same height as herself, and it was a strange feeling to be intimidated by a mere flag. But there was something of a threat rising up from it, like a power no one dared to have forgotten. On it, there was Latin scrawled below a beautiful white rose that towered over two branches of bright ivy; _Vincit qui se Vincit._

Bella was just reaching out to touch it was a low growl resounded through the room. She leapt back from the flag and whirled around, her back to the wall.

"I know you're there. There's no point to hide from me like a coward." She hoped it sounded bolder than she felt. In truth, her hands were shaking and her face felt clammy.

The growl turned into an outraged roar and he charged forward, slamming his hands down on the dining table.

"I am no coward."

"Really? Because a beast that hides away in a broken down castle with his servants as prisoners certainly sounds cowardly to me. And attacking old men? You cannot possibly have the audacity as to-"

"YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME." He'd jumped over the table with a single leap and was now backing her into the wall as she tried to catch her breath. The Beast towered over her, so tall that the light from the candles was hidden entirely. "YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WHY THEY STAY HERE. THEY HAVE NO CHOICE!"

"Exactly! Because you're a miserable-"

"AND NEITHER DO I, YOU INTOLERABLE GIRL! I. HAVE. NO. CHOICE."

They both froze at the admission. He was panting, his eyes flashing with rage and something else.

Something like despair.

Belle felt herself calm down, no longer scared. Angry, yes. Confused, definitely.

But she couldn't find it in herself to be frightened of this monster in front of her. (She would keep this a secret for now, she couldn't let him take it as a challenge.)

He seemed to lose patience waiting for her to answer, and with a grunt he turned on his heel, brushing past her and heading for the door.

Belle took a gulp and one step towards him, feeling emboldened by his attitude.

"Is that your mother?"

She watched with curiosity as his back stiffened, and he turned to find her a breath away. Their eyes widened simultaneously at how close they were. His breath was hot and hers was shaky.

His eyes…

They're _human._

Ice blue, just like the woman in the portrait. How had she not noticed before?

There was something there. A secret.

His eyes were wide with confusion, and then the moment was over. They narrowed and he pulled back.

"That is none of your concern. And you gave yourself up as a prisoner, not a guest. No matter what they say."

And with that, he was gone.

But how had he heard them call her a guest?

Unless he'd been listening while they sang.

He had let her eat. He had let her smile and feel comforted. She gasped in shock as the door slammed shut behind him.

There was definitely something there she hadn't seen before.

 **That's all for now! If you like it, drop a review and a request and I'll give you an update tomorrow. Many more short scenes and maybe a few side stories for you guys.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Something Bittersweet- In which the Beast finds himself discomforted. (AKA he learns more about himself and doesn't like what he finds…)**

His library felt different now. The second she'd stepped into it the atmosphere had changed. All of a sudden it wasn't just a dusty room with some rotting pages. It was some sort of miracle, a spectacle to explore and cherish. She had changed a lot of things. He wasn't sure how to fix it.

He now stood in the first of the three sections, staring out at the moonlit forest.

Somewhere out there her home was resting in a tiny village, her father worried sick. He wondered if she'd been the one to look after him, cook for him, clean the house. It seemed like something she would do out of habit. Not that he'd been taking much notice of her at all, of course. He just assumed the man was probably very distraught.

And that was because of him. But he shouldn't care, the man was a no-good thief. The Beast had no reason to care.

Right?

Another petal had fallen tonight.

He'd long ago gotten used to the anxiety it caused, but now that she was here there seemed to be more panic with every day passing by. One could say she was a bit of a nuisance.

That thought made him shift uneasily, and he turned away from the window and her home and all that she ever loved and cared about and began to pace. Suddenly the library didn't seem to grand and massive, but instead small and growing tighter, too big for a monster like him.

A growl ripped through his throat, and he swung his fists at the bookcase nearest to him, ready to rip and tear until it was shredded to the dust it sat upon.

A tiny squeak made him freeze in his tracks. He whipped around to find Belle, a short candle in hand, standing a few paces away. Her eyes were wide with fear, and it took him a moment to realize she was afraid for the books.

What on earth? They were just books.

But even as he said that he knew it was a lie. They were so much more than that. They were an escape.

"P-please don't." It was barely a whisper from her, but it was enough to twist his stomach into a knot.

He grunted and stalked towards her small frame, tempted to see what it was take to get her to admit she was more afraid of him than the fate of the books. There was a part of him that just wanted to see how long it would take for her to break. For her to cry or beg to be let go. For her to be at his mercy.

But she wouldn't let him win, wouldn't give him an ounce of power.

Anger began to mix with the guilt toiling away at the cage around his heart, and he bared his teeth at her, challengingly.

Her features twisted into a little scowl, and his eyes widened as he watched her. There wasn't an ounce of intimidation from her now. She hadn't spoken yet, so he took the moment to take her in.

Belle was dressed in a long white nightgown, with embroidered roses curving around her collarbone and down her waist. It was as if they were there to tease him, to torment him. To mock the irony of the situation. It didn't help that the nightdress did _nothing_ to hide her figure, or that her hair was a swath of auburn curls tumbling around her shoulders. Or that her eyes were sparkling bright in the candlelight. Or that her petal-pink lips were drooping in a slight pout-

He turned away, growling furiously.

Curse her! Curse fate, curse it all, blast! Why did it have to be so cruel?

And why of all things couldn't she have been ugly, or stupid, or a prissy simpleton?

Belle tapped her foot impatiently, and he twisted back to see what she could possibly want now.

"You weren't serious, were you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come now. You weren't actually planning on destroying those books were you?"

He shrugged and avoided her fervent gaze.

How on earth could she make him feel this sheepish?

"It's my library, I can do as I please with it."

"From the looks of the pictures in the hall, I'd say this isn't yours at all. It's your fathers. What ever happened to him?"

His blood ran hot and he turned to see her again, his lips curling back into a snarl.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF HIM. OUT! NOW!" The walls shuddered as his voice echoed through them. Belle didn't seem nearly as phased.

She stamped her foot.

"No! I think if you're going to keep me locked away, that I at least deserve some answers. Where is your family? Do they look like you? Is your fath-" She was cut off as his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"I said. Get. Out. None of this is your business, and it never will be."

Belle was cowering in his arms, but she still shook her head vehemently.

"He's the reason you're like this, isn't he? That's why you hate him?" The question shook him off guard, and he dropped her to the ground in surprise. She stumbled a bit, and that snapped him out of it.

He snarled again and lurched for the doors, replying as he left.

"You're nothing but an impossibly stubborn girl. You're a nothing, a peasant. I have no reason to answer to you."

He could hear her suck in a sharp breath as the door shut behind him.

 **~An Hour Later~**

"Oh Master, how could you? That is never how you treat a lady, no matter how...eh, 'impossible' she may be."

"She's infuriating, Cogsworth! I don't have the time to deal with her."

"You're quite right Master." The Beast turned in surprise to glance at the portly little clock. He hadn't been expecting an agreement. "You're quite right about not having the time. You certainly shouldn't deal with her. You should _woo_ her."

The Beast rolled his eyes and turned back to his window. It was the balcony in the west wing, and from his view he could see the lights still flickering in the library. She hadn't left yet. For some reason that thought made his heart begin to thump painfully.

"We already learned I'm not particularly skilled in that field of expertise, Cogsworth."

They both cringed at the memory of his attempt at a smile. It had looked more like he was trying to pull a thorn out of his side. He couldn't help thinking a thorn in his side represented Belle perfectly. But the other side of his mind refused to agree.

"Nevertheless, you must try, Sir. She's the only chance you've got, and it's foolish to deny that she isn't the one." The Beast glared at him sharply, but Cogsworth just shrugged and sauntered off, leaving him to brood.

 **~Five Minutes Later~**

He couldn't believe _he_ was about to do this. He couldn't _believe_ he was about to do this.

His massive paw was hovering over the doorknob, just an inch away, claws extended, fur standing on end.

He did not want to do this. And no one told him what to do. Ever.

So why was he doing it?

He pushed the thoughts out of his head and shoved the door open. It creaked and banged against the panels of the wall loudly. He would've flinched if he wasn't already so tense. The library was just as he left it, clean, dusty, and non-demolished. She was nowhere to be found.

The Beast frowned and walked further into the room, confusion building.

Where in the blazes could she have possibly gone? The lights were still-

The lights! He turned to the left section of the room and walked through, and sure enough, there she was.

The Beast shuddered to a halt at the sight of her.

Melting candles swimming in a pool of wax were perched around her, forming a warm circle of light. She was curled up with her knees underneath her on the chaise, books scattered all across her body. They were digging into her waist and dangling precariously over her head, wrapped in her arms and tucked under her feet. She seemed to have a glow in that moment, and the Beast had to blink a few times before stepping closer.

Her hair was swept up behind her and dangling over the armrest, so he could see her pale pink mouth as she muttered in her sleep.

"Oh Pa…no, he hasn't hurt me...not as bad as we thought...just scared..." She twisted a little in her trance and his head shot up in time to see the book above her head begin to fall. He lunged forward, catching mere moments before it would have crashed into the pack of her neck. He was now bending over her, and the scent was drifting towards him.

He closed his eyes in shock at all of the new senses occurring at once and leaned hard against the side of the chaise as he involuntarily set the book down.

She smelled of vanilla and fresh soap, the kind of smell after you've cooked something delicious. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, just kept his eyes squeezed shut while she continued to mumble.

"He's just scared, Papa...doesn't know how to...how to trust. I love you...papa...but I wanna stay...to…" Her voice grew dim and in a panic he forgot his unspoken rule and lifted his eyes wide open, trying to read her lips. He had to know what she was about to say. What was her reason for staying? What!?

"To...to help him. He...he needs me." The Beast fell backward on his heels, edging away from the chaise and the halo and the Beauty.

It had been foolish to assume it would be anything close to what he needed. She could never grow to care about someone like him.

For who could ever love a beast?

 **To the literal hundreds of viewers I got today, it'd be great if you could leave a review and send in some requests! I have about three to five more ideas, but I want to create more than that, so I need your help!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Unpopular Finds a Home- In Which a little orphan realizes she doesn't have to be alone anymore.**

She was known around the village as "La Petite Oaf," for being a bit of a simpleton. But not because she wasn't educated, or particularly dull in the head.

It was because she _wanted_ to be educated. She _wanted_ to learn. So when Belle found her attempting to write in the dust behind the orphanage, the Petite Oaf was shocked to hear the beautiful girl knew how to read. Belle had plopped down next to her in the dirt and spent the rest of the afternoon helping her with her letters.

That was the first time the orphan felt cared for.

They'd begun their lessons in the privacy of the church, with Pere Robert looking on as he cleaned the rafters. Belle taught her how stories were more than just words and letters printed together, but instead worlds to visit and places to fall in love with.

They would work hard all afternoons until Belle would place the book back, give a wistful sigh, and gather her things before heading back to her home. The orphan would sit longer, hidden in the shadows, trying her hardest to memorize as much as possible so she could impress Belle. Then maybe she would take her in as a sister. Maybe she could be adopted. Maybe she'd have a home.

One evening Belle asked something that would leave the orphan smiling the rest of the month.

"Would you like to come for supper? Papa's favorite roast is cooking. Does that sound nice?"

The girl just stared at her, mouth hanging at the jaw in surprise. It was happening! She was one step closer to a home! Belle had laughed at her, grabbed her hand, and they were off, headed through the winding streets until they came to her cozy little cottage. They didn't give the orphanage a single glance.

They all sat around a warm fire as the last snow of winter roared outside, hot roast warming her belly in a way she'd never felt before. They'd given her tea and he'd shown her all his beautiful clocks and inventions. Her favorite, one that sent chills down her tiny back, was the music box. The food and the fire and even Belle was forgotten as she stared at the figure of her mother, holding a child tight in her arms. There was nothing but love decorating the inside, and the orphan stared until when she closed her eyes, she could picture the mother holding her close instead. It was hard not to feel a little jealous of Belle, for having a mother at all. But she couldn't feel jealous because soon, they'd adopt her and then she wouldn't need to feel bad because her mother would be _their_ mother. She played the tune to the music box again and again, until finally Belle's Papa asked her very formally to dance. The orphan tripped and blundered until Papa finally lifted her onto his boots, and one two three, one two three, one two three...

They'd spun around the tiny floorboards, ignoring the creaks and instead laughing until they could barely breathe. Belle had stood by, humming a dance tune for them while she cleaned the dishes.

After supper, Belle told her she would have let her stay the night if it weren't for the orphanage being worried about her. The orphan didn't feel the need to tell Belle they would've been delighted to see her disappear. So instead she followed Belle back over the snow covered roads

It was the first time she'd felt real, genuine hope.

And then she ruined it. It had been an accident, she hadn't been thinking clearly. It was all her fault, she knew. Oh why had she asked her then?

It had been an innocent request, just begging Belle to teach her a few more words that morning. They sat down at the well, quite alone and at peace. Belle was happy to help, and there was no reason for the orphan to feel something was about to go terribly, horribly wrong.

The townspeople were onto them like vultures faster than she had time to scream, yanking away Belle's laundry and spilling it out over the grimy street.

The orphan had never felt more ashamed and angry with herself as she ran away, unable to look Belle in the eyes. It was as if she'd betrayed Belle, she should've known how the village would react. Now Belle was in trouble, and all she'd done is run away. But none of them would've listened to her anyways.

She remained hidden in the corners and crevices of the church for hours, until finally Pere Robert found her, covered in cobwebs and tears.

"Child, whatever is the matter?" His face twisted with concern and she began to feel more tears run down her cheeks.

That was the second time she'd felt cared for.

The little girl felt her heart break the day Belle went missing. She was nowhere to be found, and her beautifully warm and inviting house was cold and empty. The girl couldn't help believing that somehow it was her fault, that they did something awful to Belle for helping her learn to read.

SHe cried more those days than ever before.

Belle's Papa didn't help the situation when he returned from the woods, frantic and apparently gone mad. No one would listen to him or let him come near, so she was forced to watch from a distance as the man that had given her her first dance was mocked by the crowds and taken away with Gaston and LeFou.

The first time she felt loved was when she saw the castle for the first time.

It was alive and bright again, flowers blossoming the closer they stepped and snow melting away rapidly behind them. She had forgotten her cloak in the orphanage but was too excited and nervous to feel cold. Belle was here. Belle was alright.

She wasn't sure if that last part was true, but it was beyond every wish of hers to see her again and apologize. It was more than she could bear to think about any longer, so she ran ahead, weaving through the crowd.

In less than two minutes she was at the marble steps, staring up at the palace. It was so grand she almost fell backwards trying to see it all.

A group of finely dressed servants were pouring over each other by the entrance, hugging and laughing and loving each other.

It was the first time she smiled at strangers.

Then the doors opened, and all breath left her.

It was Belle!

She tried to move towards her, but seemed to be frozen to the steps.

Belle looked ragged and weary, but happier than she'd ever seen her in the village. She was arm-in-arm with someone that felt familiar to her…

She could hear the crowd around her gasp as all at once they remembered.

But the little girl no longer cared where she'd seen him before, or what it could mean, because Belle had found her in the mob of people and was rushing towards her.

The orphan girl grinned and flung herself into Belle's awaiting arms.

"Genevieve! Oh how I've missed you! How are you, how's your-"

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, oh you've got no idea how sorry I am! It's all my fault, I didn't want you to get hurt. Belle I'm so sorry I never wanted to hurt you or your father I just wanted a family so much, and…" She let out a sob, burying her face in Belle's shoulder. She felt Belle suck in a breath, then she held Genevieve impossibly close.

"None of it was your fault, you hear? You've got no reason to be sorry, Genny. My goodness, have you been worried about that silly accident this whole time?!"

Genevieve pulled away and nodded, rubbing her nose against her sleeve. Belle tilted her head to glance back at the Prince as she laughed.

"Genny, I want you to meet the-ahem, I mean Adam. His name is Adam." She blinked a few times, as if even she wasn't sure.

Adam towered over her, but his smile was warm enough that she didn't feel frightened.

"Hello, Genny. I've heard all kinds of wonderful things about you."

Genny's heart began to pound, and she stared at Belle hopefully.

"Does that mean…?"

Belle took her hand and led her over to a family that was embracing each other quite loudly. Belle cleared her throat and the group disbanded to reveal a beautiful older woman, a kind man she recognized from the village, and a tiny boy about her age.

"Mrs. Potts, this is my dearest sister from back home. Her name is Genevieve. Would you mind watching over her for the next few days?"

Mrs. Potts beamed at her and was scooping her up in her warmth before Genny could blink in surprise.

And just as suddenly, it clicked. Belle knew what she wanted. Belle was giving her a family!

Genny gasped and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Potts, holding on tightly.

It was the first time she understood love.

 **Thank you so much for all of the views and favorites and requests! The more reviews I get, the more gets added onto this story. I am definitely going to include the requests that have been made so far, because they're all very brilliant.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I cannot believe the response I got from you guys, I wasn't expecting that at all! I can't thank you enough for the support, follows, and favorites, it means the world! I will be using all the requests I have gotten, so be sure to check often just in case yours pops up!**

 **Cliffhanger- In which the Beast discovers Belle is more than she appears.**

She was dancing.

There was no music, no pattern or rhythm, but it was impossible to see otherwise. He'd spent too many hours of his past life attending the stifling banquets and balls not to recognize the body language. Her arms were high at her side, her fingers curled as though her hand was being held by another's. Her shoes were kicked off to the side of the bedroom, her toes pointed tall as she took graceful steps, one porcelain tile to the next. She was moving to the steady rhythm of an unrecognizable song, something that seemed filled with countless past memories for her. It shocked him to see something so familiar from someone so new to him.

He slipped back into the comforting shadows, seeing without being seen, the way it should be. He knew the second she caught him the life would die from her eyes and she'd slip back into her stubborn nature. She'd lower her head and scowl under her breath, and if she ever did look into his wolfish eyes, it would be out of pity. And then he'd lose her.

Every tap of her heel, turn of her neck, and twist of her waist was enough for him to know that she was somewhere else in her mind's eye, somewhere far away from the cold and foreign cage he considered a rather expensive and lavish bedroom. Her skirts, a fresh lilac blue print, were hiked up to her knees, and from here he could spot her bare and dirty feet whirling about. Belle hardly seemed to notice her hair was flying free from the messy knot at the exposed nape of her neck. She was literally jumping in joy, twirling around the room with a…

Was that a book? Yes! Yes, she was dancing because of a book, of all reasons.

The Beast had to hold back a snort of disbelief. She was more childish than he'd thought. Nothing but a naïve, immature….

His thoughts ran away once again as she began to hum, and the scorn faded from his features. It was oddly familiar, the tune sending shivers down his back. It was something from long ago, a time he wished more than anything he could forget. She slowed her dance as the humming grew louder, walking gently over to the shelf where the book had once been.

It was the lullaby his mother used to sing for him, the last few years of her life. It had always felt tired and eerie, but when Belle sang it, the song became something almost happy.

He couldn't help stepping a few inches closer, aching to hear more, to capture the image of her in his mind.

" _How does a moment last forever?"_ She stopped in front of the shelf and eased the novel back into its place, caressing the faded bindings and titles of the rest.

" _How can a story never die?"_ From here he could see her smile falter as she reached the end of the shelf, her heels returning to the floor. Her voice was like a clear, soft bell ringing over and over in his head, simple and beautiful without trying to be anything she wasn't. Yet at the same time, Belle was anything but simple.

" _It is love we must hold onto, never easy, but we try…."_ A crack slipped into her voice, sneaking in and then revealing itself at the end of the phrase, leaving Belle alone and vulnerable in her beautiful prison. Her fingers slipped from the shelf, and she instinctively wrapped her arms in a tight hug around herself, as if trying to bring comfort into the cold room.

He blinked as a tug, painful and sharp, resounded through his chest. Had she always looked that small, that tameable? _She was in pain, and he didn't know why, and he didn't know how to fix it._ Before he could stop himself, a low growl slithered throughout the room.

The next few moments changed him forever.

In the first moment, Belle finally became aware of his presence. She let out a squeak of shock and whirled around, her elbow crashing into the bookshelf and sending the priceless volumes flying into the air and slapping against the dresser, waking Madame Garderobe immediately from her soft snoring.

Second, Belle lost her footing as she turned, slipping on some loose sheets of paper near the floor. Madame let out a shriek, tottering forward on her spindly legs.

Third, he was across the room in an instant and pulling her into his arms.

They froze in each other's embrace, neither knowing why exactly they were in such close proximity, neither knowing why the other was so incredibly _warm_. Her fingers had wrapped around his lapel and he was gripping the fabric draped along her arms, with her feet centimeters from the cliff that made up her "window."

Belle didn't seem to have realized she was seconds away from falling to her death, because currently she was struggling to get away from him, her feet moving closer to the edge.

He didn't resist the eye roll, shoving the stunned feeling of her away into the corners of his mind. He would brood and worry over those thoughts later, far away from her influence.

"If I let you go, you'll die." He'd never been very good at tact, apparently, because instead of calming her down and making her be cooperative, this in fact terrified her so that she began to kick.

"Let me go, let me go this instant! What in the blazes is going on?!" She was hissing in his ear, but he wasn't paying attention to that. All he could hear was her terrified heartbeat pounding against his chest. The scent of fear and confusion rolled off Belle in waves, pouring over him. He had to resist a shudder of rage, stupid animal instincts.

He let out a huff and threw her over his shoulder, stepping safely away from the window.

"What do you think you're doing?! You have no right, put me down right now!" Her palms automatically landed on his massive shoulders in an attempt to brace herself.

Neither of them seemed to realize that Belle's cries, coupled with Madame Garderobe's awakening, had been noticed by the rest of the servants, and now a crowd was watching intently from the doorway.

"Shouldn't we do something?"

"Oh dear. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. And so soon too!"

"Maybe we should've warned the Master about eavesdropping and its consequences."

"Mama, why is she kicking him?"

Lumiere leaned over towards Cogsworth. "Looks like a step forward in the right direction, if you ask me!"

Cogsworth let out a snort. "I did not ask you, and if anything, this looks like a thousand steps in the wrong direction! You appear, yet again, to be delusional." Lumière shrugged, turning back to watch the couple lost in their argument.

"You know what they say about love and hate…" He trailed off dramatically, waving one of his candles in the Beast's direction. Belle still had not ceased her futile struggling to get away.

"No. What do they say?" Plumette turned to him, her head cocked to the side in confusion. One by one the rest of the servants turned too, leaving him in the spotlight that he _usually_ treasured.

Lumiere's flame sputtered out abruptly as he searched for an actual answer.

"Eh, something about how similar the two are. That they are one and the same…? Yes. Come come now, let us leave them be." He left the doorway in such a hurry that his candles were extinguished altogether. The rest of the group remained, hidden in the shadows, observing with a collectively held breath.

"I demand that you put me down this instant, you...you brute! Let. Me. Go." She was squirming uncontrollably, her teeth gritting together in anger. At the moment, she was more of a beast than he was. A surge of rage shot through him once more, and he turned, walking towards the exit. He'd spun so quickly that she almost lost her hold on his shoulder, slipping forwards with another ear-piercing shriek.

"I just saved your life, and this is how you repay me? You really are nothing but a child. This is all your fault too, you know. Your foolish danci-" He stopped walking, realizing what he had just admitted.

"Y-you saw me? You _watched_ me?" She whispered, growing still against him.

He shrugged, once again hating that she made him feel sheepish.

"I was curious. I recognized the dance from long ago."

"You've been to a _ball_?!" She seemed to have forgotten her previous anger, and now all that was left was pure confusion. He'd been planning to set her down on her bed, ready to walk away and leave her be for good. But her question aggravated him.

"Of course I've been to a ball, hasn't everyone?" He turned to watch her reaction, knowing fully well she was a peasant. He felt she owed him a chance to be cruel after the torment she'd put him through, being in his arms.

She bit her lip, glancing across the room at the now rumpled pile of books scattered around the tiles.

"Right. That's what I thought. What I can't fathom, however, is how a lowly farm girl like yourself would know those steps."

Her gaze shot up to meet his, fire gleaming beneath her expression.

"I am no farm girl. I may be poor, but I am not the stupid low-life you make me out to be. My father believed everyone needed an education, no matter how much money was sitting in their pockets. So he taught me the dances, along with other things." Her boldness was seeping back into her countenance, he could tell, as slowly her back began to straighten the longer she spoke. "I am much more interested, however, in how you seemed to recognize dance steps that are only used in Paris."

His eyes widened at that, and she let out a small smile in satisfaction. "So tell me, Beast. How would you learn to dance when you have spent all your life here?"

She was baiting him, he knew that much, but he didn't care. He just wanted to prove her wrong.

"You assume too much. I wasn't always trapped in this blasted place, just as I'm sure you weren't always this bold and proud." The fire flickered uncomfortably in her eyes, and he couldn't help noticing the way her shoulders slumped. "Furthermore, I wasn't always a Beast either. If you'd rather me not call you farm girl, or have me consider you a prisoner, then you must give me a different name in return."

She sat up again, curiosity overruling her pain. "I'm to make up a name for you?" Her voice sounded incredulous. He shook his mane.

"No. Call me by my real name. I will not answer to anything other than Prince Adam." The name no longer held the power it used too, instead it felt like a flimsy, breakable attempt at comfort. He turned to walk away, holding his breath in anticipation to hear her response.

"Adam?" Her voice was quiet, almost disbelieving.

"I just saved your life. You owe me a proper name, at least."

"And you also forced me to give up my life for my fathers. You owe me a proper name too, at least." It wasn't exactly a gentle reminder that she hated him.

He growled impatiently, taking long strides for the door. "Fine. You will be referred to as Belle, and I as Adam. Are we in agreement?" He paused, turning back to face her so he could send her the most intimidating glare he could muster. He still held the authority, and he felt the need to prove it.

But she didn't even seem to be paying attention, her eyes focused once more on the pile of books. He couldn't read the hollow expression painted on her face, and it made him uneasy. He shifted his weight to the other paw and cleared his throat.

She blinked once, then twice, and glanced up at him.

"The dance wasn't the only thing you recognized, was it? Y-you recognized the song too, didn't you?" It was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, but it sent shivers down his spine. Belle was watching him far too closely, as thought she could hear his panicked thoughts.

"That is none of your concern, nor does it matter. I expect you to join me for dinner tonight, and this time, I won't let them sing for you."

He left before she had time to figure out if that was supposed to be a joke.

 **I will be writing more soon, I am so sorry this took so long to post, the last few weeks have been crazy! I'll spend tonight writing down all of your requests,** **and whoever sends in the first review on this chapter will get their request first!** **Reviews make my day!**


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